Twisted Memories
by WithoutAWord
Summary: Rob, Carla's brother, turns up on the street looking for his sister.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N**__ So I had this going round my head and I really wanted to write it, however I wanted to at least start it before Rob graces our screens, because chances are he's not going to be anything like this, so I took a bit of time to just throw together a little chapter to start it off. It's really rushed so sorry for any mistakes there might be but as you all know if you are reading my other stories (which I will try and update when I can!) I'm kind of surprised I even managed to find the time to write this. I'm not sure how much Rob is supposed to know about Carla's life since she was a child, so I've taken the liberty of using a bit of artistic licence ;) All reviews welcome as always, I'd love to hear whether any of you are interested in this. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!_

Stepping out of the taxi and onto the uneven cobbles, Rob looked down the street as he tried to take in every little detail. So this was where his sister had ended up. When they had been little they had dreamed of living somewhere like this, and somehow she had done it. Whatever else could be said about his sister, she worked hard to get what she wanted in life. Realising he hadn't a clue where to actually find her, he disappeared into the pub which he had been dropped off outside in the hope that he could find out a little more than he already knew.

'Oh hiya love,' greeted Stella, who was surprised to see a new face. The Rovers had always been a private, local pub, and it wasn't often that somebody new appeared. She wasn't complaining either, he was quite good looking. As he stepped up to the bar he looked around, scanning for any signs of the woman he'd come to see. 'Can I help you?'

'Actually yeah, I'm looking for Carla Donavon?'

Stella stared back blankly, shaking her head slightly. 'Sorry, I don't know anyone of that name.' His heart sank slightly, before remembering how she'd had another of her partners in tow when she'd come over to sort out their mother's things and realising that she may have had a name change since then.

'Oh, she might have married that bloke from last year! I think his name was Frank?' Rob was pleased when a look of recognition fluttered across the barmaid's features, but he wasn't too keen on the expression with which she settled. Stella still wasn't keen on Carla after all the heartbreak she had caused her daughter, and the mention of that man's name bought back memories she'd rather forget.

'Oh, Carla Connor!'

'Connor?' His voice had an edge to it as he said that name which Stella couldn't quite put her finger on, but it was evident that the surname had stirred up some sort of emotion within the stranger. 'Why's she still using that name? I'd have thought after Paul had died she would have gone back to Donavon.'

'I take it that's her maiden name then?' she asked casually as she started to wipe down the bar.

'What? She's never even mentioned it?'

'Nope.' Stella could sense the annoyance building within Rob, so she added quickly, 'I haven't been here all that long though, and we don't really see eye to eye if you know what I mean.' She wasn't particularly sure why she was sticking up for Carla, but there was something about the man which made her reluctant to upset him. She was relieved when he gave a little laugh at her comment about not getting along with her; that was the Carla he remembered from his childhood.

'Oh, I can imagine!' he chuckled. 'So, where can I find her?'

'She owns the factory down the bottom of the street. It's called Underworld.' Rob remembered seeing the sign before he'd entered the pub, and was quite impressed at how she owned such a big business such as that. As children she'd always said that she would make something of herself one day, and it gave him no end of happiness that she'd managed to achieve exactly that.

'Oh, I saw that when I arrived,' he said. 'Do you reckon she'll be there now?'

'Should think so.' Stella was well aware that that factory was practically Carla's second home. Sometimes she would see her locking up the building at some unearthly hour in the morning and it always staggered her how she could bare to work such long hours. But then that place was such a big part of her life, as Stella had discovered the weeks after Frank's attack when she had clung to the business for support. Stella supposed Carla had gone through so much during her time on the street, and the only constant had been Underworld. It was no surprise that that factory meant the world to her.

'Right, well I think it's time I showed my face then!' Nerves started forming in his stomach at the prospect of seeing his sister once again, conscious that the last time they had met had been somewhat disastrous. They had both been grieving, and with so many lost years and pent up emotions it had been pretty explosive. That had always been the case for Carla and Rob though; they loved each other to bits beep down, but on the surface they were both fighters. He gave a rather odd looking smile, which was full of charm, before turning to leave.

'Nice to meet you.' Stella called out to him. 'Will I be seeing you around again?'

Rob smiled as he speculated on the barmaid's thoughts. She seemed like a woman up for a bit of gossip to him. 'Oh, I should think so' he replied, with a wink, before swinging open the door and exiting the pub. Truth was, he really did hope that he could at least stick around for a while. He stepped into the middle of the cobbled road and, taking in a large breath, he stared down at the building at the end of the street. It was time.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N**__ I know that Eileen has already left Underworld now, but if you could imagine that she hadn't then I'd be eternally grateful; I really am relying on artistic license in this fic, I hope none of you mind (please let me know if you do!). Anyway, I hope you like it and if you have the time to leave a little review then that would be amazing as I always love hearing what you think. Thank you so much to those of you who left reviews for the first chapter; you know who you are!_

Stepping through the door of the factory, Rob was immediately hit by the constant nattering of the work force who were deep in gossip as usual. As he stepped round the corner, he found himself rooted to the spot as he took everything in. He wasn't the sort of person to be stunned into silence, but Carla had always been his weak spot. He could pretend to the whole world that nothing could affect him, but there was always a little space in his heart reserved for her.

Just at that moment he spotted her over the other side of the room. Her silky hair swung elegantly this way and that as she appeared to argue with two of her workers about the quality of the underwear. Oh, he was pretty sure he could get used to hanging around this place. Just then a woman with short brown hair came running over to greet him, and he was a little taken back.

'Hello, can I help you?' she asked, genuine interest in her face.

'Er...' he stuttered, his eyes flicking back and forth between this woman and his sister.

'Oh, er,' Hayley faltered, reading his reaction as wanting to talk to the boss rather than a machinist. 'Mrs Connor's a bit busy at the moment, but I can help in the time being?' She looked at him expectantly, but his eyes were now completely fixed on Carla in awe. At their mother's funeral she'd been so quiet and secluded, but right now she was having no problem with holding her own. The workers around her all looked rather nervous at her outburst and he could see a little bit of that estate girl he grew up with shining through.

'But...'

'No buts Eileen, you've had your chance and you've blown it.' Carla stated matter-of-factly as she pointed at the woman for emphasis.

'Mrs Connor...' the blond woman groaned, as she tried to get a word in edgeways, but hearing that name again brought all the emotions Rob had felt in the pub back to the surface.

'You always did prefer their family to you own didn't you, Carla.'

Everyone in the room swung around to face him, including Carla. She would have recognised that voice anywhere, but the whole situation simply shocked her into silence.

'Oh...er...ok...' Hayley blabbered as she stepped back to join everyone else, clearly embarrassed at how she hadn't realised his visit wasn't professional but in fact personal. Everyone in the room looked between Carla and Rob, eager to know what was going on; it wasn't every day a stranger who knew Carla turned up, and it wasn't every day somebody spoke to Mrs Connor in that manner.

Hours seemed to pass before she finally managed to form a word, but even then it was a challenge her brain wasn't quite ready for. 'Rob...' she whispered, clearly thrown by his presence. He tried to read her reaction, but the only thing he could tell for definite was the bewilderment. 'No...' she whispered, shaking her head slowly from side to side as everything began to sink in. 'No, I can't do this right now.'

'Is Frank around?' Rob asked, conscious that he'd rather have the looming conversation in private. When he got no answer, he explained, 'I thought maybe you could leave him in charge and we could go somewhere to talk?' He noticed Carla shift uneasily, as the mention of his name brought back a few memories she'd managed to escape from for a couple of weeks now.

'He's dead.' She didn't want to go into the subject any further; she hadn't told her dearest family for a reason. The way she spoke – her voice so lacking in emotion – confused Rob to no end. Frank and his sister had seemed so close when he had come with her to sort out their mother's belongings after the funeral, so why was she behaving like this now?

'I'm sorry...' he said, genuine sympathy detectable in his voice. The amount of losses she had suffered, it must be hard to watch someone else slip away from her.

'I'm not,' she said bluntly. She hadn't meant to say it, but her hatred for Frank ran so deep that she couldn't bite her tongue. Rob was astounded at the way she spoke about him, and he too was driven by his emotions.

'You know, Carla, I always thought you were just misunderstood. But no, I was right at the funeral, wasn't I?' His words hit her hard, and she felt tears stinging in her eyes.

'Get out,' she hissed. Just like the first time she had heard his insults, she felt the overwhelming need for a very, _very_ large glass of red.

'No, hold on!' Sean interjected, looking between the two of them in confusion. Both Carla and Rob shot him a surprised look, partially because his input made them remember where they were, and partially at his boldness to intrude in their conversation. 'Why are you letting him talk to you like that?' he asked his boss, who usually found it hard to tolerate any such treatment.

'And who are you exactly?' Rob asked, squaring up to Sean, who visibly recoiled.

'I'd ask you the same question...' he muttered quietly, but still loud enough for Rob to hear. Carla put her hand on his arm and begged his name softly in the hope to calm him. She knew what he could get like when he was angry, and she was pretty sure Sean wasn't ready for that. However, Rob pulled away from her touch, taking another step closer to Sean, and this small rejection from her baby brother hurt Carla more than she had been expecting.

'Sorry,' Rob said sarcastically, his voice raised. 'Allow me to introduce myself, my name's Rob, and I'm Carla's _brother_.' The small gasp which emitted from the work force's lips was audible, and Carla found herself cringing. Rob took a step back, surveying the look on everyone's faces, unsurprised by the shock on each of their features. 'I doubt she's mentioned me,' he spat, still hurt by the lack of communication he'd had with his sister over the years. He looked over to Carla, who was staring intently at the floor, and expected to feel all those feelings of hatred of her abandonment over the years, but when his eyes met the figure before him all those emotions vanished. She looked different somehow. Broken.

It was then that he realised how counter-productive this visit was becoming. He'd come to Weatherfield to patch up what was left of his relationship with his sister, but all he had done thus far was begin sever the few ties they had left. He'd never seen her look so vulnerable, even as a child. Through the tough times back at home she'd still had her confidence and sharp tongue, but now her shoulders hunched over and her head hung low in an attempt to hide herself away.

'Carla, I'm sorry I didn't mean that.' He took a small step towards her, but as he did her head shot up and she stumbled back slightly to keep the distance between them. Rob tried to ignore it, hating the thought of his own sister not wanting to be near him.

'Oh no, you really did,' she said, eyebrows raised, her head nodding slightly. While her tone was accusing, she still sounded strangely vulnerable, and he couldn't help but notice. He didn't want to push Carla into talking to him about it, knowing full well that she would automatically close up, and so he vowed to himself that he would wait until she trusted him again no matter how long that took. One thing he knew for sure though was that he wasn't leaving this street until he knew she was okay.

'Give me a chance, eh?' Begging wasn't his style. Everyone back on the estate would have paid money to hear Rob Donavon beg. But Carla meant so much more to him than he could ever admit. 'We can talk, then if you still don't want me around then I'll go. I will. But I miss you, Carla.'

'You _miss_ me?' she jeered. 'Yeah, it really sounded like that at the funeral!' She turned her back to him dismissively, and he automatically reached for her arm to stop her from walking away.

'I was grieving...we were _both_ grieving.' His touch shook her for a second, the memories now raw again, but she refused to look weak; she was only just beginning to regain respect from her employees and she had no desire for her brother to see her in that manner. The suppression of her caution and fear prompted anger, and she span around sharply to face him.

'Oh, I'm allowed to grieve now, am I? It's just, last time I saw you, you seemed to be under the distinct impression that I didn't have the right to be at my own mother's funeral!'

The resentment in her eyes as she spoke broke his heart, and he wondered whether anything specific had actually happened or perhaps the problem was that she had simply been more damaged by her past than he had ever realised. 'I'm sorry about what I said, I really am. Just give me the chance to make it up to you...please.'

As he spoke, she noticed the way his brow furrowed slightly and could hear the small hint of desperation to his tone. He had never been great at showing his emotions – they were quite similar in that sense – but, having grown up with him, she could tell when he was being sincere. Part of her hated him for winning her around so easily, but another part of her was relieved that he didn't loath her as much as she had believed for the past year.

'Fine, go into my office, I'll be in in a minute,' Carla sighed, nodding over to show him the way, and Rob gave her a small, reassuring smile as he disappeared into the small room. As the door closed behind him, she let out a shaky breath, before returning to her argument with an apprehensive Eileen as the other machinists looked on, bemused.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N**__ Another update in the space of three days; it's a minor miracle! ;) This chapter practically wrote itself, so I'm hoping it's ok; I'm worried about how quickly I managed to finish it haha! It is a bit broken up, I hope that's not too off-putting, and Carter fans don't hate me, just bear with me ) Thanks to Holz090 and TeamCarterxx for your reviews, they were lovely :') Again, if you all have time I'd love to hear your thoughts, I relly do appreciate every review :)_

Rob took the liberty of taking a good look around the office, hoping to see anything which might help him understand her a bit better. The first thing he noticed was how unorganised everything was; not that he'd ever been organised himself, nor had Carla been organised when they were younger, but seeing as this was a business he had expected everything to be carefully put away. He wasn't sure if it was just his high expectations, as he hadn't really been in a place like this before, but the papers which scattered the desk seemed to suggest that she was struggling to cope; they were in no way ordered, and he was pretty sure finding the relevant paperwork wouldn't have been an easy task. His eyes shifted to the desk opposite, and he found it oddly fascinating that, seeing as Frank was no longer around, there were still two desks in the office. He made a mental note to ask her who it belonged to later, but was well aware that they had more pressing issues to discuss first.

He made himself comfy on one of the soft leather chairs, which were a lot more luxurious than anything he'd ever owned. He took a moment to appreciate how far his sister had come from their grotty, two-bedroomed house on the estate where they had grown up and he couldn't help but smile with pride. He put his feet up on the desk and leant far back into the chair, closing his eyes and imagining that this was the life which he had made for himself too. He was so lost in his fantasy world that he didn't hear the faint sound of the office door sliding open, and upon hearing Carla's voice he jumped out of his skin, placing his feet firmly on the ground once more in an attempt to pretend he'd never done it.

'Take a seat,' she smirked as she headed over to the other chair, amused by the naughty schoolboy look on her brother's face. She took a sip from the mug of coffee on her desk before grimacing and replacing it on the table at arm's length. 'Ergh, it's cold.' Rob, for probably the first time in his life, found himself speechless. It was like Carla had multiple personalities and he was unsure of how she was going to react next. He'd been here all of about five minutes, and he'd already seen her annoyed, fearful, angry and now cheeky.

She sat there expectantly, taking in her brother's appearance for the first time since he'd arrived. He didn't look much different from when she had last met him a year ago, bar the split lip he was sporting, which, if he was anything like he used to be, hardly surprised her. When Rob showed no signs of talking, she spoke up again. 'I didn't invite you in here to sit in silence. Are you going to say something or what?'

'Sorry.'

She chuckled at the uncharacteristically bewildered expression he was wearing. 'Don't apologise, just talk.'

'No, I mean I'm _sorry_. For everything at the funeral, for losing contact with you...'

'For calling me inhumane? And refusing to talk to me when I first left home because I wanted to make something of myself?' she interrupted sarcastically. Her tone was light but it wasn't hard to see the pain. Rob cringed at the memories, and wished he could go back in time to take back all the hurtful things he'd ever said or done. He'd always had a temper, which he'd never really learnt to control, but it was probably to be expected considering the childhood they had both been forced to endure.

'Yeah...' he whispered, regretting his actions. 'Yeah, I'm sorry...' He knew it was weak, but he wasn't very good at this apologising lark.

* * *

'Hayley, is Carla around?' Peter called as he stepped foot onto the factory floor.

'Er yeah, she's in the office.' He began to head over that way, and she started to panic knowing Carla wouldn't want to be disturbed and worried about how volatile she seemed to be today. 'But I wouldn't go in there right now,' she advised. Peter gave her a quizzical look, so she explained, 'She's with her brother.'

'_Her brother?_' he exclaimed, remembering how cruel he had been to her at their mother's funeral, when he himself had tried to pick up the pieces as she struggled to resist the temptation of blocking everything out so that she could no longer remember the insults which he had flung at her. Rage engulfed him as the image of her reaching for the bottle of red wine as she questioned her self-worth flashed before him and he strode towards the office without another thought.

* * *

Both Carla and Rob were happy with the progress that were making in such a short time, and they were wondering why they hadn't tried to patch things up sooner. They knew they had a very long way to go yet, and had so much to discuss; they barely knew anything about each other since Carla had left home at sixteen. They had both been mere children then, and so much had changed. Just then, the door flung open, and Peter came storming through, making a beeline for the brother of the woman he loved so dearly. It took a fraction of a second for Carla to read his body language, and she shot up out of her chair to hold him back before he managed to launch himself at Rob.

'Peter!' she begged, and her mind couldn't help but flash back to when she had had to restrain him in this very office the day Frank had cruelly snatched her business from her. She was flattered by his protectiveness, but part of her worried slightly; the first sign had always been over-protectiveness. She knew Peter was different, but her natural defences made her a little wary all the same.

'Oh,' Rob said, feigning surprise; sarcasm clearly ran in the family. He stood up, readying himself for a fight. 'Aren't you going to introduce me, Carla?'

She sighed, unsure of where this was leading. She'd hoped she could spend a little more time with her brother before informing him of her current situation, and to be honest the last thing she had wanted was for Peter to get involved before she'd had chance to speak to him first. The only thing he knew about her brother was how hurtful he'd been at the funeral, as she'd pretty much refused to talk to him about her childhood up until now. She knew she would soon have to face those demons from her past at some point in the now very near future, but she refused to let her thoughts dwell on that.

'Rob, this is Peter, my partner.'

'Woah,' he chuckled, 'didn't take you long to get over Frank did it?' He had meant it in a playful way, and Carla had known that, but Peter was enraged by his off-hand comment.

'You_ what_?' he shouted as he wriggled himself free from Carla's grasp, which had momentarily weakened as another mention of his name overwhelmed her senses, and punched Rob square in the jaw. He went flying onto the desk, taken off-guard by the gesture. He'd simply tried to lighten the tension, and he wasn't entirely sure where that had come from.

He considered retaliating, but he didn't want to lose his sister so soon after this breakthrough and he figured he probably deserved it anyway thinking back to some of the things he's said to her last year. Saying that, if this _Peter_ tried anything again he wasn't sure he'd be so considerate. He looked up to see Carla pulling Peter away from him, putting herself between them to stop any attempts for round two by either man.

'Obviously something I said...' Rob muttered, pushing his hand to his split lip and checking for blood to make sure his wound hadn't reopened. He was grateful that that wasn't the case, but his rib throbbed from its collision with the desk and he was sure his face would be bruised by the morning. This guy was stronger than he looked.

'You're sick!' Peter spat over Carla's shoulder, overcome by his emotions once again. How could this man joke about what Frank had done to her? He was supposed to be her _brother_.

Carla softly cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. 'Please baby,' she pleaded.

Peter whimpered slightly as he looked at the hurt in her eyes at his actions, and immediately calmed down not wanting to scare her; however, he feared it may have been too late for that. He'd sworn to himself when he got with Carla that he would never get angry enough to lash out, knowing it would have much greater consequences than it would with any other women. He wasn't stupid, and although he'd never spoken to her about it he knew that she still struggled greatly with trust. But to be honest, who could blame her? Every relationship she had had had been lacking in trust, and for very good reason. He needed to be strong, for her sake.

What he was struggling to understand, however, was why she was protecting him. He had said such spiteful things to her when she had been so low, and now a year later he had turned up out of the blue and was making vile comments like those. One explanation came to mind, but he was reluctant to ask.

'Does he know?'

He watched as Carla's nose scrunched in confusion. 'Know what, baby?' He normally loved the sweet, tender way she spoke to him, but he could tell that she was using it to try and keep him calm – like walking on egg shells, choosing her words carefully – and he chastised himself for making her feel that way.

'About Frank.' He tried to keep his voice controlled, to reassure her that he wasn't going to fly off the handle again. 'Does he know about Frank?' He clenched and flexed his hand in an attempt to channel the anger and anxiety which was surging through him. She shook her head so slightly that he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been inspecting her every movement to understand what she was thinking and how she was feeling; it was like she was paralysed, now fearful of where the conversation was heading. Peter let out a shaky breath before bolting out the door, eager to remove himself from her presence before he completely lost control.

'Peter! Peter, please!'

* * *

As the air hit Peter's face, he swung round and laid a powerful punch into the wall, grunting and wincing as his already raw knuckles split against the harsh surface of the wall. He was annoyed at Carla for giving that man the time of day, he was annoyed at Rob for turning up on her doorstep and reminding her of memories she'd been moving on from so well, but most of all he was annoyed at himself for getting angry like that in front of Carla. This was so hard for her, and all he had managed to do was make things worse.

He leant against the wall, breathing a heavy sigh as he looked down the street absentmindedly. He found his eyes flickering to Number 1, and before he knew it his feet were taking him down to the road towards the house.

* * *

The workers all stared at the event unfolding before them, struggling to keep up despite their high skills and experience at gossip. Carla just stood motionless in the middle of the room, her eyes fixated on the door which Peter had already disappeared out of.

'What don't I know about Frank?'

She turned her head towards the doorway to the office, in which Rob was standing. His face was sombre, due to his strong suspicions that the guy he had met last year had something to do with the vulnerability he was seeing in his sister. He didn't know what, but now the subject had been raised he wasn't letting it drop until he found out.

Everyone in the room was looking at her expectantly, and she felt suffocated. She tried to talk, but her chest constricted and her throat closed up as she struggled to breathe. She hadn't felt like this in so long; not since Frank had died. She excused herself, running into the ladies' and slamming the door behind her before sliding down the other side and letting a small sob escape her lips.

She had to tell him. Now was the time that she had to tell her baby brother how weak she had become.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N**__ Thank you for your wonderful reception to the last chapter. Anyway, thanks so much for your feedback, and I hope you like this chapter too :) As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts._

Rob sat at the desk, strumming his fingers on the table with apprehension. Carla had been in the toilets for approximately ten or fifteen minutes, but it felt like an eternity to all involved. The machinists got on with their work in silence, all quietly fretting about the mental stability of their boss. Rob was coming up with theory after theory about what Frank could have possibly done, but he dismissed each in turn and returned to square one almost as soon as he thought he may be getting somewhere every time.

Hayley was considering going to make sure Carla was ok, but just as she put her material to one side the door opened and Carla walked out almost timidly. Her eyes were red and puffy; she had spent ages attempting to tidy herself up in the bathroom mirror before returning but no matter how hard she tried she still didn't look what she would call presentable and her make-up was in her back in the office. Part of her had been hoping that Rob would have gone by now, fed up of waiting for his mega-dramatic sister, but when Rob appeared at the doorway again she realised that that was never going to be the case.

He looked at her like he'd never done so before. Even when she'd cried as a child he'd never looked at her with eyes so full of worry and compassion, and the expression didn't quite look right on his features.

She tried to offer a weak smile of reassurance, but it fooled nobody, and when Rob's countenance remained unchanged she gave up pretending and let her features fall into a more comfortable expression, the strain of smiling too much to bear.

'Are you ok?' he asked, his voice more wrought with emotion that he had ever thought possible. Carla gave a small nod in reply, making her way into the office again to be sheltered from the beady eyes of her work force which bore into her skin.

'I'm always ok,' she noted with humourless sarcasm as she passed him, and he followed into the office before closing the door behind them. He'd never seen his sister in this state before. Not when Dad got angry. Not when Mum neglected them day after day. He couldn't imagine what could have happened to break her like this.

She sat down at her desk and reached into the oversized handbag lying on the desk, pulling out her make-up bag and beginning to touch up that which had been washed away by her disobedient tears. He watched in awe as she rebuilt her facade as she reapplied her foundation, her posture beginning to radiate confidence once more. You didn't need a brain to understand how much practise she'd had at this.

'Can you stop looking at me like that, please?' She looked beyond her compact mirror towards her brother as she spoke, uncomfortable by his staring.

'You're incredible.'

'In a good way I hope!' she joked, throwing him a wink as she pulled her mascara from her make-up bag.

'Can you stop pretending for two minutes?' His frustration began to surface, and it worried her slightly that it could so readily turn to anger with the wrong words. She gave him the best confused look she could muster, because although she knew he'd seen through her all too easily she wasn't willing to accept it just yet. When she he realised she wasn't about to open up, he walked over to her chair, before swinging it round effortlessly and crouching down beside her. He reached for a strand of her glossy black hair and tucked it behind her ear, looking into her eyes as he tried to read her, but she looked down at the floor and shied away from his touch. She knew that he was her brother, but since Frank she didn't feel comfortable with such gestures from any man other than Peter. 'Hey,' he whispered, lifting her chin softly with his hand. 'It's me. It's Rob.' She felt guilty that she was shunning him and he didn't even know why, so she forced her eyes to meet his. He was struck by their ghostly appearance; the way they looked so tired and full of pain, yet so empty at the same time. 'Why can't you tell me what's wrong?' he asked softly, stroking her jaw with his forefinger to try and regain her trust and remind her of the bond they'd once had. Admittedly, it was always Carla looking after him, not the other way around, but that was just all the more reason to be there for her now.

She pursed her lips and looked up towards the ceiling as she felt that all too familiar stinging in her eyes as more tears threatened to flow. 'I just...' She closed her eyes in an attempt to imprison them, but as soon as she reopened them one solitary tear escaped and cascaded down her cheek. She cursed herself for not being in control of her emotions once again that day. 'I just _can't_.'

He wiped away the offender with his thumb, and although it took all of her energies Carla made sure she didn't flinch or pull away. This was her brother. Rob. Her baby brother.

* * *

Peter knocked on the door of his father's house vehemently, ignoring the searing pain in his hand as the raw flesh beneath his skin collided with the wood. He could hear Ken calling that he was coming, but he didn't cease from banging harshly, welcoming the chance to release his frustration. At least it didn't have to feel pain.

Ken flung the door open to stop the visitor from eventually breaking it down, and was surprised to see his son on the other side.

'Peter?' he gasped, worried over the urgency of his knocking. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing,' he replied bluntly, yet heatedly. He was now leaning against the door frame in an awkward manner, unsure of how to stand. Every position felt wrong. He didn't know what to do with himself, knowing that he was helpless over the current situation over in the factory while he was in this mood. 'Look, can you have Simon tonight?'

Ken frowned at his secrecy and body language.

'Are you drunk?' he asked, accusation lacing his tone.

'No I'm not!' he shouted, surprising himself at his aggressiveness and immediately reigning himself in. 'Although that doesn't seem like such a bad option right now...'

'Right, come in and I'll put the kettle on,' Ken said, ushering his son into the house.

'Yeah, alright,' Peter complained, dodging Ken's helpful grasp. 'I was joking, I'm not about to drink myself into oblivion no matter how tempting it is.'

'That's good to know,' Ken said patronisingly, leading him towards the table and pushing him down gentle on the seat at the dining table nearest the door. 'Now sit there and I'll make you a brew.'

Peter begrudgingly sat at the table, looking around the room for something to occupy his mind.

* * *

'Carla, I can't help you if you don't tell me.' Rob was still crouching next to his sister, now using the desk to support himself, Carla having turned the chair towards the desk again as if she could just pretend he wasn't there. She slammed her pen down on the table, her head snapping round to face him. At any other time Rob would have been annoyed at her impertinence, but he was simply relieved that she was finally reacting to him.

'Why does everyone seem to think they can help me, eh?' His words had reminded her of Michelle and Ciaran's return and the way she had spilled her heart out to them so willingly. She didn't regret telling them, but it infuriated her to no end that she couldn't just do the same now. It was almost a year ago now since it had happened, yet she found it harder to talk about it now than ever. She wasn't sure why; perhaps it was because she thought she had finally managed to move on from it, or otherwise just because she didn't want Rob knowing what he'd done. 'What if you can't help me? What if I'm stuck with this forever?'

'Stuck with what?' The words rushed out of his mouth as he leapt at the chance for her to open up to him.

'_This_. Not even being able to talk about it.' Her voice cracked as she let her head fall into her hands, running them through her hair, applying a painful amount of pressure to her throbbing head in aggravation.

'Oh Carla,' he sighed, placing a comforting hand on her back. He'd never dreamed he'd find it so hard to see her suffering like this, but he hadn't just regained all his feelings for his sister since arriving today; seeing her so vulnerable had intensified them. He hated that he hadn't been there for her.

All the times she'd stayed up all night with him when they were younger when he was upset and yet he hadn't repaid that. He would cry about how he was being bullied, and she'd immediately pull him into the biggest hug, kissing his head and comforting him until he drifted off to sleep. She'd only ever cared for him and loved him, but all he'd ever done was throw it back in her face.

All of a sudden she sat up, sheer determination on her face as she swung the chair round to face him.

'He raped me.'

Three little words. That's all they were – three little words. Yet they seemed to have the power to make the world stop. Rob's breath hitched in his throat and he felt light-headed as he struggled to concentrate.

'What?' he whispered, barely audibly. Carla took a deep breath, knowing it would be easier to repeat now she'd said it once. Easier, but not easy.

'You asked me what was wrong? What I was stuck with? Well that's it. That's what I can't hide from. That's what you can't help me with. Frank raped me. And I have to live with that now for the rest of my life.'


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N**__ To avoid confusion, this chapter does include a flashback. I have used lines to separate the present and the past, but if it's not clear please let me know and I'll try and change the format to something else. I'm worried I've been too ambitious taking this on as so many people have different ideas about what happened, and I myself have many versions, but for the purpose of this story I thought this worked best. Once again, thanks for the amazing feedback and if you have time to leave a quick review for this chapter I'd love to hear what you think :)_

'Why didn't you tell me?' He'd wanted so badly to know what was wrong, but now all he could do was wish that he didn't. Well, more specifically that there was nothing _to_ know. All his speculations had seemed trivial compared to the harsh reality. He remembered hearing the sickening screams down the alley on the estate one night all those years ago. He'd been nineteen, and the memory had never left him. Knowing his beautiful sister had had to endure that too sent chills up his spine, and made him feel physically ill. He looked into her eyes again, knowing what he knew now, and he couldn't help but notice how the pain he could see appeared to have intensified.

'Before or after you told me I have no feelings?' she whispered bitterly, the damage still raw.

* * *

Carla sat at the back of the church, two or three pews behind the last of her family. Her last minute decision to actually go had made her late enough as it was, but the nightmare traffic had meant that she had to creep in after the service had already begun, earning her unforgiving looks from, not just her family, but the entire church. She'd taken this seat to ensure that she didn't interrupt too much, but she knew deep down that she would probably have been sitting here no matter how early she had arrived.

Throughout the service she had to will herself not to let the tears fall. Inside her heart was shattering, but outside she was Carla Connor; Carla Connor didn't cry. It was everybody's expectation that Carla Connor would remain composed, and so that's what she would give them. Who was she to deprive them of what they wanted?

At the end her family all rose, following the coffin as it made its way outside. Carla waited until the rest of the congregation had left before joining herself, not wanting to intrude, well aware that she hadn't spent nearly as much time with her mother in the last decade as the others. She didn't even deserve to be here. As her family walked past her one by one she averted her gaze to the wall next to her, not wanting to see the degrading and discontented looks on each of their faces in turn.

When the sound of footsteps faded into the distance, she let out a shaky breath and stood up, ready to make her way to the grave; to see her mother one final time. She hadn't noticed the one person who had stayed behind, and as she made her way to the end of the pew, examining the floor of the church as a distraction, she noticed the pair of feet waiting at the end.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she jumped backwards in shock, clutching her chest as she tried to regulate her breathing. When she had half-regained her composure, she looked up to identify the man with anxiety.

She had never seen such a stern expression upon someone's face until that very moment. His eyes were cold, his mouth tense as he forced himself to remain controlled.

Rob leaned in closer to his sister, so that their faces were just centimetres apart, before hissing, 'I don't want you anywhere near that grave.'

He lingered for a few moments, the corner of his mouth twitching as he stopped himself from saying anything further. Today was the day that they buried his mother and he would not let her ruin that. _His_ mother. Not hers. She wasn't worthy of the title of daughter.

Convinced that he had made his point, and before he lost it altogether, Rob went to find the rest of his family. His footsteps echoed loudly in the practically deserted church, and the noise reverberated through Carla. She felt like each step was a blow to her insides, as the rejection from her baby brother hit home just how alone she was now. All she ever did was alienate people; isolate herself from those who cared by hurting them. She looked up and patted underneath her eyes to catch the teardrops before they fell, so that nobody would notice how pathetic she was being, before defiantly stepping outside the church and making her way over to the crowd of people.

She settled behind a group of tall men, none of which she knew, attempting to hide herself from her brother. She hadn't seen him for years, but if he was anything like he used to be then he was still pretty handy with his fists. She'd never imagined him taking a swing at her, but the look he had given her at the church proved how their relationship had broken down severely since parting ways.

She kept her head low, listening to the vicar, not once daring to peak round the men in fear of being acknowledged by Rob. She despised herself for being so weak, but the last thing she wanted to do was cause a scene. She inspected the individual blades of grass beside her feet, and she found herself pitying them. She knew it was weird, _strange_, and just generally not normal, but she couldn't help it. She knew how it felt to be continuously trodden on without a second thought, and she marvelled at how it always stood tall again as soon as the pressure was released. She _envied_ the grass and its resilience. She wanted to be able to pick herself up and dust herself off as if nothing had ever happened, but she kept all those torturous memories locked away inside. They were at the back of her mind, not always showing themselves but never leaving.

A whimper waywardly escaped her lips, and her head shot up to make sure nobody had noticed. However, as her head lifted she noticed how the crowd of men in front of her had dispersed, leaving her in full view of her brother. His eyes, full of burning rage, scorched every fibre of her being. She considered leaving there and then, knowing he wouldn't follow her; he wouldn't want to miss the last of his mother's funeral to scold his sister. Nonetheless, she found herself rooted to the ground, as if God had answered her prayers and had transformed her into one of the blades of grass she'd so desperately wanted to become a few seconds ago. She was in a church after all.

When she finally broke eye contact with Rob she began to stumble her way back to the church building, but he was too fast. He headed straight for her, pushing the rest of his family and friends out the way in an attempt to reach her before she left. They were only half way between the grave and the church when he grabbed her by the arm and span her around to face him. He wasn't a teenager anymore; his grip was powerful and his movements forceful. She winced slightly, but she refused to show any other signs of weakness as she shot a dirty look at him.

'What?' she asked sarcastically.

'You just couldn't keep away, could you? You had to ruin it!' His eyes were wide and menacing, and she could practically see the fire dancing in his pupils.

'I came to say goodbye to our mother.'

'_Don't call her that!_' he shouted. As she had got more and more ill, it was him that was looking after her day in, day out. Carla was too busy with her perfect life to give a damn about who brought her into it. True, she wasn't the best mother - in fact, she was a terrible mum – but she hadn't had the best start in life either. She had been born, and had died, on the estate. All she had known was alcohol, drugs and benefits. That's all you learnt on the estate.

'Like it or not, Rob, I was her daughter.'

Carla turned round again to go, eager to leave now she had managed to pay her respects, but hearing the faint sound of her aunt in the background changed her mind. 'Debateable...'

'And you can shut up as well, Doreen!' she shouted, flying round and throwing her pointed finger in her aunt's direction.

'Well,' she slurred, obviously drunk. She evidently hadn't changed a bit, then. 'Where were you when she needed you, eh Carla?'

'And where were you when we needed you? Where were you when I was doing everything to feed me and him, eh?'

'Don't you _dare_ turn this around on me, young lady!' Doreen sauntered over to her, her body so intoxicated with alcohol she could smell it from where she was standing several meters away. 'That was years ago, and if he can put it behind him, then so can you!' She made a gesture to her side towards Rob, but it failed miserably as her arm flapped around her side a little. 'Anyway, if he was so incapable of looking after himself, why did you do a disappearing act?' Her comment stung, as Carla thought of her brother all by himself on the estate, with nobody to look out for him. It had been such a hard decision to make, but she had known if she didn't want to end up like her mother than she needed to get out of there as soon as she could. The night she had left she had almost considered going back for him, but she had nowhere to go, and nothing to eat, and she couldn't bring herself to put him through that.

'You think that was easy for me?' she snapped, her eyes brimming with tears for the first time. She had never spoken about it aloud, and she had been so young it made everything that little bit more painful. She wasn't as tough when she was sixteen as she was now, and it had been harder to deal with her emotions back then.

'Oh you are human enough to have feelings then?' Rob's words came out of nowhere, and it hurt more than anything said so far. She looked into her baby brother's eyes and all she could see was pure hatred. They had been so close as children, but she supposed after everything she had done she had deserved that. She'd abandoned him when he needed her, and she couldn't begin to comprehend the damage she must have caused. She despised herself for hurting him so badly. She'd promised him day after day that she would always be there for him, and one day when he had woken up she had just gone. She thought _she_ had trust issues, but she had inflicted them on him too.

Carla, stunned by the comment, took a moment to analyse the expressions of the rest of the congregation. Although all different, each face made her feel totally unwelcome to the point that she wished she had never come at all. She took one last look at Rob, which was the final straw. She strode, this time freely, through the church and flagged down a taxi outside in a bid to get away as quickly as possible. Her family watched on, happy to see her go, despite having a lot more to say to her. This wasn't the time, or the place however, and so they kept their mouths closed and their stance still.

Carla had never felt as unloved as she did then.

* * *

'You know I didn't mean any of that,' Rob repeated, his eyes pleading for his sister's forgiveness.

'You were right though' she said, fiddling with the pen now in front of her. 'I left you when you needed me Rob,' her voice cracked with emotion, knowing she'd never be able to forgive herself.

'You were always there when I needed you,' he reassured, smiling sadly. 'I'd always talk to you, never Mum.'

'But when it mattered I wasn't there...'

'Why don't we put the past where it belongs, mm?' he interrupted, not wanting to keep dragging up the same things over and over again. He could see, no matter how many times they went over it, neither would forgive themselves for the way they had behaved. 'Focus on the future?' Carla gave a weak nod, although she knew it was easier said than done. Just then the door slid open, to reveal an apologetic Hayley the other side.

'Sorry Mrs Connor, we were wondering if it was alright for us to get off?' She shied into the doorway, nervous of Carla's mood swings today. Carla's head snapped to the clock, and wondered where the time had gone. It was forty-five minutes past their clock off time, and she felt guilty for not letting them go earlier. She should of known they would be apprehensive about putting a foot out of line today what with the way she had been behaving.

'Oh course, Hayley,' she sighed. 'I'm sorry I lost track of time, tell everyone to take the overtime off tomorrow morning.'

'Are you sure, Mrs Connor?' she asked, a beaming smile on her face. She had expected to be shouted at, not given a lie in tomorrow.

'Yeah, now go on before I change my mind!'

Hayley bustled out to tell the workers the good news, and Carla felt content at the way the day had finally ended.

'So,' she said turning back to her brother. 'Where you staying tonight?' She picked up her bag and pushed a few files into it, knowing she wouldn't sleep well tonight and preferring to keep her mind occupied with something useful if that was the case.

'Well...er...' She looked at him expectantly as he tried to remember the B&B sign he had seen on his way here, but the name was lost on him.

'Do you actually have anywhere to stay?' she asked, throwing her bag on her shoulder.

'Not currently,' he said, choosing his words carefully, not wanting to say what they both knew was true outright. He barely had a penny to his name since he came out of jail, but he didn't really want to mention that to her just yet. She had managed to build herself a nice little life; she didn't want to know how he got caught stealing for the umpteenth time just after the funeral and had spent the past year behind bars. She sighed, watching her brother struggle for words.

'Well I've got an empty flat you can use, but I can't be bothered going over there tonight. You alright to stay on our sofa?' she asked casually, switching the lights off in the office and making her way onto the factory floor. Rob was stunned by the offer, and was unbelievably grateful, but couldn't believe she could afford to have an empty flat hanging around.

'You sure?' He was sure there would be some sort of strings attached.

'No, I was saying it for dramatic effect.' He chuckled at her sarcasm, filled with joy at being reunited with his sister. 'Of course I'm sure, come on its only down the road.' She got to the light switches by the door, but Rob hadn't moved from outside the office.

'Carla,' he called. He didn't know what he did it, because now he'd have to say something soppy, but he couldn't help himself. 'Thank you.'

She gave him a genuine smile, before nodding her head to the door next to her. 'Come on, else you'll be left in darkness.' He gave a small laugh as he jogged over to join her, and he couldn't believe he'd left things so long when having his sister back was this good.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N **__So this turned out to be a lot more dramatic than I was planning...If you hate it, let me know and I'll rewrite. I actually wrote it ages ago but have been so unsure about it that I've waited a pretty long time to upload it. Thanks to everyone for their reviews for the last chapter – they really are appreciated! So yeah...I'm scared I've just ruined this fic, so please let me know your honest view so I can try and save it if that is the case. Or alternatively, you can just skip the middle section, because it won't affect your understand or following of the story if you do. Although it will make this a rather short update ;)_

_In other short news, my update to No More Games actually got no reviews, so I'm assuming that means that people are no longer interested in that story. I don't like talking about other fics in my updates, but I thought it was only fair that I warned that the fic might be abandoned if it stays reviewless. I know it sounds harsh, but I don't want to write a story which nobody is interested in anymore when I could be focussing my efforts on things people actually want to read._

_Anyway, I hope this is ok :)_

Peter finished laying out the table, then returned to his cooking. When he'd got home, he'd decided to cook him and Carla a nice meal as an apology, hoping she'd open up to him during the course of the evening. He knew so little about her brother, and he wanted to know more. Plus, he had a lot of grovelling to do himself. His chat with Ken earlier hadn't exactly helped nor hindered matters, as he'd refused to tell his Dad the extent of what was wrong. He'd told him that Carla's brother was in town to stop him from thinking he'd hit the bottle, but that was as far as the conversation had got. He bent down into the oven when he heard to door open.

'Carla love, Simon's at Dad's. I thought we could...' Peter froze when he saw Carla, her arm on Rob's shoulder reassuringly. '...talk...' His eyes darted from her to him, not able to believe it.

'Peter, don't fly off the handle, but I've said Rob can stay on our sofa tonight.' He stood there in utter shock, half expecting someone to jump out with a hidden camera.

'I'm sorry, have I missed something?' he asked, making sure he stayed calm. However, suppression of anger usually led to sarcasm where he was concerned. 'One minute he's throwing all sorts of malicious insults at you, the next he's sleeping on our couch?'

'Peter, please. I know this is your flat and everything...'

'I'm not saying no.' She flashed him a huge smile as she ran over to him, flinging her arms round his neck and landing a massive kiss on his lips.

'Thank you baby,' she whispered, her lips grazing his. However, her smile turned to a frown when he carefully prized her hands away from him, taking a step back so that Rob was in view.

'I want you to know, though. I'm doing this for her. Not you.' Rob had expected nothing less, and was just grateful that he could put aside his obvious dislike for him. If he only knew what Peter knew, he would be furious too. It couldn't have been clearer how much this man loved his sister.

'I understand mate.'

* * *

'Carla?' A nine year old Rob peeped his head round her bedroom door, his tone timid, not wanting to bother her.

'Yeah,' she said, leaning into the cracked mirror on her wall trying to put in her new earrings. They were a present from Michelle for her fourteenth, which was last Wednesday, and tonight her and her family were taking her out for a meal. She couldn't wait to celebrate with her friends, but even more than that she couldn't wait to have a proper meal. Her mum was on another of her binge drinking sessions, and this one had lasted about two weeks. They had no food in, so Carla had been going out to find what she could for her and Rob, but she hadn't been able to gather together much and she'd figured he needed it more than her. She sighed as she smoothed out her hair once more, making sure she looked presentable enough to be seen with the Connor family.

'Can I talk to you?' he asked, still lingering at the doorway, waiting for an invite before coming in. Carla looked over at him suspiciously, worried about why he was acting so strangely.

'Course, come over here,' she said, gesturing over to her bed where they both perched, waiting for the other to speak first. 'What's wrong?' she asked.

'Why isn't Mum here?' he asked, burying his head into her arm, wanting to ask the question but not really wanting to know the answer. Carla sighed, guessing her mother hadn't returned since she stumbled out of the flat last night looking for more alcohol. She rubbed Rob's arm reassuringly, although she knew nothing she could say would make him feel better.

'She's just gone out for a bit, but she'll be back soon. Don't worry.' He looked up at her with his big brown eyes which were filled with tears and it broke her heart.

'Will she come back with food?' She wrapped her arms round him protectively, resting her chin on the top of his head.

'I don't know,' she whispered, hoping that would be true, although the odds were rather slim to say the least. As if on cue, they heard the front door of the flat slam closed, and Carla got up off the bed, telling Rob to stay where he was and ruffling his hair slightly.

She stepped out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her so that he wouldn't have to witness the state she was going to be in having finally returned home. She walked into the living room, and was disappointed to see her dad there instead. Not that either of them were any use, but at least their mother didn't lash out and her presence would put her brother's mind at rest.

'Oh, it's you,' she sighed.

'Don't sound too excited,' he slurred angrily, and Carla knew now wasn't a time to mess with him. He headed over to the kitchen and thrust open cupboard after cupboard, losing his balance nearly every time. She stood and watched as he vainly checked every one in turn, knowing he'd find nothing. When he had managed to turn the kitchen upside down he turned to Carla and threw his hands around in angry gestures. 'Where's the food?!'

'Don't ask me! Ask Mum!'

'I would if she was here,' he said, sarcastically looking around the flat as he walked up towards her. She wanted to shy away, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction, nor the motive. When he reached her he leaned in, and the vile odour of his breath made her feel nauseous. 'But she's not, so I'm asking you.'

'I'm not responsible for buying the food, I'm fourteen!'

'Wouldn't think it, the way you're dressed.' She didn't blush easily, but her cheeks flushed with blood at the comment. Michelle had leant her one of her dresses for the evening, which was a little too big for her slender, malnourished frame but she had somehow managed to make it look like it fitted. It wasn't particularly short – it came to about mid-thigh – but she supposed anything other than the hand-me-down clothes she usually had to wear was looked down up by her father. She pulled at the hem of the dress self-consciously with one hand, trying to focus on the brilliant evening she was going to have with Michelle, Paul, Liam, Barry, and not so much Helen. He stroked her hair, admiring the unnatural silkiness of it.

'I've got to finish getting ready,' she lied, as she turned away from him to head back to her room. As she went to walk away, she yelped as her hair pulled at the roots, and she realised he'd grabbed fistfuls of it to prevent her from going anywhere. Rob heard the noise, and he crept out of Carla's room, looking round the corner into the living room as he hid in the shadows.

'You're going nowhere,' her father hissed in her ear as she struggled to fill her lungs with the necessary oxygen in the shock. Rob couldn't hear, but he could see the way Carla was clutching the back of her head and the tears which were brimming in her eyes and he knew what was happening. 'You're going to put food on this table,' he roared as he pulled her round towards the dining table and slammed her into it face first. She inhaled sharply at the collision, but she knew reacting would only make it worse. As she slowly opened her eyes to regain her orientation, the pressure on the back of her head overwhelming as he pushed her face into the wood, she noticed her nine year old brother walking out of the shadows into the dining room. Her eyes widened in shock and fear, not knowing what her father might do next. Rob had never seen his dad like this before, mostly because Carla had provided herself as a shield between them, and she couldn't stand the idea of him turning on him instead. She'd take a million blows to know that Rob was safe. She struggled against her father's grasp to try and distract him and stop him seeing the boy in the corner, but she went limp when Rob spoke up and she felt faint with fear.

'Carla does her best.' His voice sounded so innocent and naive, and it sounded so out of place. She wanted to wrap him in one blanket after another to protect him from the harsh world in which he lived, to preserve the beautiful virtue which he possessed. Their father stood looking at his boy, and after what seemed like an eternity let go of Carla to approach him. She grabbed at his arm to stop him going anywhere near her precious brother, but her endeavours were weak and he simply swatted her off him with one foul gesture.

'Well her best obviously isn't good enough is it?' he asked the young lad, as he strode towards him.

He'd got halfway across the room when there was a knock at the front door, and they all turned around to look at it in surprise. Carla knew exactly who it was, and that her father definitely wasn't going to like it. She ran over to the door before he could stop her, but she underestimated his speed and reactions while drunk, and she had only just opened the door ajar when he threw his weight against it, causing it to slam shut again. Michelle jumped as it banged in her face, and she was immediately worried about her friend. 'Carla? You alright?' she shouted through the door.

'I meant it; you're not going anywhere,' he whispered to her, menacingly. She drew a shaky breath when Michelle could be heard through the door.

'She's not going away, Dad,' she whispered back, disgusted at the way she referred to him with a name which usually carried such care and devotion. Eventually he moved out the way, admitting defeat this one time but there was no way he would let this happen again. She ran her fingers through her hair and tried to get rid of the creases in her dress before pulling open the door. She was met by a look from her friend, which if she hadn't been so flustered she may have actually found amusing.

'You alright Car'?'

'Yeah...' she said, looking back to Rob, who was still standing in the corner of the room, and then her father who was now sitting on the moth eaten sofa as he took a swig from the beer can he'd managed to find jammed down the side of the sofa where her mum had obviously stashed it and forgotten about it. 'Listen Michelle, I wouldn't ask but is it alright if Rob comes too?' She didn't want to risk him being alone with him tonight, and to be honest they could both do with the food.

'Er yeah, sure.' She lowered her voice, so that Carla's dad couldn't hear her. 'What's going on?' she whispered.

'I'll explain in a minute,' she whispered back. 'Rob,' she called over to her brother, who looked at Carla, too afraid to move in case it was wrong. 'Come on, we're going out for dinner.' At the mention of food Rob ran over to his sister, not looking back at his father.

'Where we getting food from?' he asked, confused as to why it was now so easy to eat, yet it had been so hard before.

'Well, 'Chelle's very nicely offered to buy us some.' She kept her eyes on Rob, anxious what expression Michelle was wearing. She'd never told Michelle about her home life, though she knew tonight would be changing all that.

'Really?' he asked, his excitement more than evident. 'Thanks Michelle!'

'Car'?' Michelle said, forcing Carla look at her.

'I'll tell you later.'

* * *

Carla awoke from the dream, gasping for breaths, feeling like she had relived it all over again. She thought she had escaped her childhood, but now she knew there was no way of escaping something so important. She turned over to find Peter watching her, concern etched into his features. He'd been awoken by her restlessness, but the way her face had contorted and whispered to herself he was worried that there was so much that he needed to know but didn't. He knew not to push her, so he let his hand rest on her hip comfortingly.

'Not now,' she whispered, pushing it away gently and getting up so that she couldn't fall asleep and experience another such vivid dream again. She made her way into the living room, closing the bedroom door behind her, to find Rob awake too. She went and sat next to him, and she felt a great sense of déjà vu. He put his hand on her arm, and all she could think about was when she was fourteen again, except this time she was the one being comforted by her nine year old brother. He'd been there for her then, and he was there for her now.

'Can't sleep?'


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N**__ Just a quick chapter to tide you over for a while, please let me know what you think :) Just a reminder that this Rob is not the same Rob as in Corrie, because I started characterising him before he actually came on screen. A big thank you goes to all of those who have supported me, whether it be for this fiction or any of my others. I feel like I never say it enough, because it really does mean a great deal to me. Anyway, I hope you like the new chapter. Oh and P.S, I've started the next chapter of No More Games :)_

'Can't sleep?'

'Mm' Carla hummed, shaking her head slowly as she tried to banish the memory. However, the dream had been too vivid, and she was finding it more difficult than ever to forget. 'Looks like I'm not the only one though,' she added, tilting her head to one side so that she could see him.

'Just thinking...' he sighed, running his fingers through his bed-head hair. 'And this hotel bed isn't all that to be honest,' he smirked, hoping to inject some humour into what he could see becoming a fairly intense conversation.

'Oi you,' she laughed, slapping his arm playfully. 'You could always sleep on the streets instead, I won't mind.'

There was a short silence, where they both got lost in their thoughts, before Rob spoke up again.

'So that's my reason for not being asleep at this unearthly hour. What's yours?'

She tucked her legs into her chest protectively, and it didn't go unnoticed by Rob. It was a small gesture, but it wasn't something he saw her doing as an adult and he couldn't help but wonder if it was just that he hadn't known her well enough in the past, or whether it was another of her personality traits inherited from her ordeal.

Carla toyed with telling him everything, but he had held back and so she decided to too.

'You hardly expected me to be able to sleep after today did you?' she asked, clutching her legs closer to her chest. She made a convincing argument, but the thin film of sweat which still lingered on her skin gave her away.

'There's more to it,' he stated softly, waiting patiently in silence for her to open up to him. She could feel him looking at her, his gaze unwavering, and so she figured she had nothing to lose. She rubbed circles into her forearm with her opposite hand in order to release some pent up angst, before moving herself into a crossed-legged position so that she could face her brother. She let her head lean against the back of the sofa, the weight of it too much for her neck to bear.

'Do you remember when Michelle took us out for a meal on my fourteenth birthday?' Rob's face fell slightly, and it was obvious that he in fact did. It was a hard memory to shake to be honest – it was the day he discovered who his dad really was. 'Well, as you've probably guessed I've been running from my past for a long time.' She bit her bottom lip slightly, nervous at her brother's possible reaction to the fact she had tried to block out his existence for as long as she could remember. 'Seeing you again seems to have stirred it all up again though,' she admitted.

'I'm sorry...' He hated seeing Carla so tormented, and he put her arm around her comfortingly. She automatically reached her his hand and pulled his arm round her further, leaning into his body.

'Hey, it's not your fault,' she whispered. 'You couldn't help what Dad was like.' He had been too young to even understand it properly at the time, let alone do anything about it.

'I know, but I hate seeing you like this.' His emotional words broke down her fragile barrier, and before she knew it she felt something cool making its way down her cheek, her vision obscured by more which threatened to follow.

'Don't know what you're on about,' she sniffed, wiping away the offending tear. 'I'm tough as old boots me.'

'No you're not.' Peter's voice, solid and powerful, echoed around the room. Carla sat up quickly, pushing herself away from Rob and shuffling over to the other side of the sofa, leaving him craving for her warmth at his side. Carla craned her neck over her shoulder to see Peter standing in the doorway to their bedroom. 'You pretend you are...' he clarified.

'Peter...' she gasped, surprised to see him. For a single moment she had forgotten where they were, and Peter's presence wasn't something she had been anticipating. There was so much which was keeping from him about her past, and it truly scared her as to how much he'd heard. 'Why don't you go back to bed, eh?' she pleaded, hoping to brush off the situation quickly and avoid talking about the subject with him altogether. Peter simply shook his head; the gesture was small, yet unmistakable.

'What did you mean about your dad?' he pressed, eager to hear. He now had some foundations to build upon as he tried to piece together the missing information about her life which he was determined to discover. Carla's eyes feel to her hands, which she now wrung nervously in her lap. She picked at her thumb nail, suddenly extremely interested in how her French manicure was beginning to peel.

'I don't really want to talk about it, if I'm honest,' she whispered. It was one thing talk to Rob about it, but explaining to Peter was a whole other matter. Rob had been _there_; she didn't have to rake over the past, remembering every tiny detail and explaining every single action. He knew what had happened, and he knew how she must be feeling. But Peter would want to know everything, what had happened, down to the last detail, not satisfied until every possible question had been fully answered. She couldn't do that now. She doubted she would ever be able to do that.

'Car', baby,' he said as he made his way over to the arm chair by the sofa, his voice a lot softer when he realised just how vulnerable his lover was feeling. 'I just want to help.' Nothing could be more true. A problem shared was supposed to be a problem solved. He knew nothing she said could solve whatever had happened in the past, but talking about the past was supposed to help you move on, and even if that wasn't a case, if he knew what was wrong then he could try his best to make it just a little easier to deal with. He reached for Carla's hands, and he was pleased when she didn't pull away. That was a start, at least.

'In which case, why don't you respect her wishes and stop talking about it.' The venom dripping from Rob's words was audible, and Peter's jaw visibly tensed.

'Did I ask for your opinion?' he snapped, his eyes never leaving Carla as if making a point that he'd prefer it if Rob just wasn't there. He especially didn't appreciate the protectiveness which Rob was showing against him, when he hadn't been around. Where had he been for the past year, when she really needed a friendly face? Peter had been there, and, to him, that gave him more rights to comfort Carla now than it did Rob.

'_Stop it_!' Carla threw Peter's hands from hers, and he stared down at his now empty hands in shock. 'I don't need the two men I care about most in my life fighting each other, not now!' She thrust herself up from the sofa, where she sat between the two squabbling men, and strode towards the coat rack where she began to wrap the first jacket she could reach around her slender flame and pulled a scarf from the box below to protect her from the fresh, night-time wind. 'Now I'm going for a walk, you two can do what you like as long as you don't tear each other's throats out.' She shoved her finger at each man in turn, her brow furrowing at their frustrating behaviour.

'It's two in the morning, love,' Peter reasoned, leaning back into the arm chair. To be truthful, he didn't have the energy for any of this at such early hours of the morning.

'I don't care what time it is!' she screamed back. She just needed to get away from everything and everyone. She couldn't stand another harsh word or another reminder of the horrors of her childhood. Sure, there were people who had had worse, but those first sixteen years of her life had been her worst and most dark. 'I'll be back in the morning for when Si gets home, and we'll act like everything's ok for his sake, because he is a little kid who _does not_ need to be stuck in the middle of all this!' Simon needed a stable family with doting parents and a calming atmosphere. Every kid needed that; she was a living example of what happened to children without it, and she wished that on nobody. She slammed the door behind her without a second glance, determined to get her head straight before she got back.

'Are you going to tell me what the hell's going on?' Peter roared, feeling as through Rob's appearance was acting as a wedge between himself and Carla. Things had just been looking up, and now suddenly his partner was a volatile, emotional wreck once again.

'Sorry mate, it's not my place to say,' Rob replied, holding his hands up in mock surrender. 'I'm sure she'll tell you in her own time.'

'Are we talking about the same woman here?' Peter got up out of the chair and went to stand behind it, distancing himself from Carla's brother to prevent him from doing anything he might regret in the morning. He ran his fingers through his hair, exasperated. He didn't know what to do to help her, and it killed him.

'I know,' he sighed, 'but it's obvious how in love you two are. I reckon she'd tell you the world.' The words felt wrong, but he couldn't stop them. Rob Donavon didn't say such soppy and sentimental things such as that, but here he was, sitting on his sister's couch as he comforted her crazy boyfriend.

'I don't know anything about her past.' Peter ceased from pacing behind the chair and threw himself against the wall, his head lolling back so that all he could see was the haphazard pattern on the ceiling. 'Well, I know little things which get dropped into conversation, but she says it jokily and I never know if she's serious or not...'

'Like what?' Rob's interest peaked at Peter's unexpected words.

'Like...' Peter wracked his brain for one of the clues which Carla had absentmindedly let slip in her conversations with him. '...something about being a ragdoll, I don't know.' Many images of Carla flying across the room flashed across his eyes, and Rob shuddered at the memories.

'Oh, that bit's true...' he sighed, hating himself just that little bit more for not doing anything to help her.

'You what?' Rob looked at Peter, to find his head now held up so that Rob was in full view, his eyes wide with apprehension as he finally got the faintest of answers.

'Look, I've said too much already. Like I said, it's not my place to tell you, but wait until the morning when she's not feeling so...'

'Feeling so what?'

'Feeling so _scared_! As you said yourself, she's been running from her past her whole life, and now it's all coming back to her and she doesn't like what she remembers. And she's scared because, unlike all the other times, she can't escape the memories.' He had never been able to read people very well, but he surprised himself at how he understood how his sister felt so well. There really was an explicable bond between siblings, he decided.

'We can't all run forever,' Peter contended, in the hope of prising a little more information from Rob's lips.

'No, we can't. But she's only just finding this out, so be patient, eh?'

'I want to hate you with every fibre of my being...but you obviously care about her a lot more than you like to let on.'

'She's my big sister; she's the most important person in my life. Always has been, always will be.' Rob hadn't spoken so honestly in so long, and he wasn't sure why he was opening up to someone who had just admitted how much dislike he held for him. He couldn't explain why he felt the need to get along with this man in front of him. Perhaps it was because it obviously meant a good deal to Carla for this to be the case?

'It's a good job you're redeeming yourself then, isn't it?' Peter disappeared back into the bedroom before his words had even sunk in to Rob. Left alone, he let a small smile dance on his lips, knowing that was probably the closest he was going to get to acceptance.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N**__ This update was originally longer, but it started to get ridiculously long so I decided to cut it at an earlier point than I was initially planning. I hope it runs smoothly enough this way, we'll see. Thanks for all your wonderful reviews which you left for the last chapter, and I hope that this chapter is okay – I don't like the way some of it is written, but I couldn't rephrase it any better. The way Carla would act when Peter was angry at Simon always intrigued me, so that's what has prompted this chapter. Feel free to let me know what you think :)_

Carla stepped into the flat, rubbing her hands together to keep them warm. She hadn't thought to wait a few more seconds to find some gloves before leaving that flat, and it had been a rather chilling night. She didn't know how long she had been gone, or even roughly what time it was, but she knew it had been light for a fair amount of time. Rob was standing in the kitchen making a cup of tea, and when he heard to door go he stopped what he was doing immediately, turning round and offering a reassuring smile to Carla as she came over to him. He pulled her into a brotherly hug and when her icy skin touched his he rubbed her arms to warm her up a bit.

'You should have come back earlier, Car'. You're frozen.' She snuggled into him, wondering how she hadn't missed him every minute of the many years they'd been apart.

'Where's Peter?' she asked, noting how quiet the flat was; she had expected to come back the them ripping into each other still, or at least giving each other dirty looks as they pretending not to acknowledge each other, like the grownups they had behaved like last night.

'Gone to get that kid of his from his dad's.' He handed the cup of tea which he had been making for himself over to Carla, guessing she needed it more than he did right now, earning him a smile from his older sister.

'Sorry I left you alone with him,' she sighed, taking a sip from the mug. The warm liquid felt so good, instantly relaxing her muscles a little. 'He didn't take another swing at you did he?' she suddenly panicked, looking up at him. She loved Peter with all her heart, but he'd already taken one swing at her brother since he arrived yesterday.

God, it was only yesterday. So much had changed in twenty four hours, and it felt surreal; it was so good to have Rob back in her life, and she was going to make sure he didn't go anywhere from now on, no matter what. She could never have imagined feeling so strongly about being reunited with her brother after their mother's funeral, but now she wouldn't change it for the world. One of the hardest choices she had ever made was leaving behind her home and everybody in it at sixteen, and a big part of her regretted losing so many years with her baby brother. He'd been just eleven when she had left, and he'd missed such a big and vital part of his life. He'd started becoming violent the last she had known, and she was partially glad of this, because that way she knew he would be able to stand up to Dad if he ever turned on him, but she didn't know what direction his life had taken afterwards and she made a mental note to find out as much as she could about his life.

Her thoughts were bought back to Earth when Rob answered her question.

'No, we made a bit of a breakthrough actually.' Carla nearly choked on her tea; that was not an answer she was expecting. Both men had made their initial impressions of each other pretty clear, and were both impulsively handy with their fists, and so she certainly hadn't expected this to be the outcome of leaving them alone together whilst they were both angry.

'Breakthrough?' she questioned, putting her mug on the counter beside her and perching on the edge.

'Yeah, I think he's warming to me,' he chuckled, amused by her reaction. He turned round to face the counter, picking up another mug, not wanting to see the pain in Carla's face at what else he had to say. 'Listen sis, he's going to want to know about Dad.' His voice was soft and considerate, and he even surprised himself at how emotional he had been since he had arrived on the street yesterday.

'I know.' He winced at her reply, her voice giving away how deflated and scared she felt. She pinched the bridge of her nose, screwing her eyes shut. 'I don't know where to start though, he knows nothing...'

'Er...' His apprehension caught her attention immediately, and she stood up straight, pulling away from the kitchen counter. He turned around slowly, still not looking at his sister in fear of what he would see. 'That's not _strictly_ true anymore...' he revealed. He knew getting everything out in the open would be the best thing in the long run, and that giving Peter just a hint of their childhood last night had helped them to build some sort of relationship – or at least dampen the hatred between them – but it hadn't been his secret to tell, and he knew how hard Carla had tried to bury the past. She wasn't going to be impressed with what he had done; he didn't need a degree to work that one out.

'What?' she screeched, her tone so high pitched it went straight through him. Before he could say anything the sound of Peter and Simon heading up the stair to the flat started to get louder, and they knew they had to curb the conversation before they opened the door and heard them arguing. 'Rob, what have you told him?' she demanded quietly through gritted teeth, as the flat door slammed open to reveal Peter and Simon.

'How dare you!' Peter had hold of Simon's arm, leading him towards the sofa. Carla knew straight away that Simon had done something while at Ken and Deirdre's, and she was certain that she would be finding out what at some point in the near future. She'd seen them interacting like this before, when Simon had stolen Amy's money, but it didn't make it any easier to see. She knew Peter would never hurt him, but with what had happened to her as a child it made her uncomfortable to say the least. However, with the past rearing its ugly head in recent days it made those feelings all the more stronger, and she felt uneasy deep within her stomach. She ached for him to stop, but she knew if she made a scene she would only anger Peter further and there would be no other way of explaining her actions than opening up about her early years there and then, and she wasn't ready for that yet.

'Peter...' she pleaded quietly, but he was enraged by Simon's actions and she fell on deaf ears.

'Sit there!' He ordered Simon, and he let go of him so that Simon could sit on the sofa in the middle of the living room. Carla and Rob were still stood in the kitchen, watching the scene unfold before them, and Carla couldn't control herself when a memory hit her which she couldn't fight off.

* * *

'I need you to buy me some cans.' He threw the money at Carla's feet, and her mother laughed at his belittling action towards his daughter. The eleven year old girl looked at the notes in disgust, and she was about to pick them up reluctantly when her mother's shrill rang in her ears. The high pitched noise echoed around her head, whispering demeaning insults, and it gave Carla that extra confidence boost. She looked up from the crumpled notes to the sour face which watched her expectantly. Harsh, unattractive stubble resided on his chin where he couldn't be bothered to shave, his eyes were bloodshot and even Carla knew he looked well beyond his years.

'Go to hell, Dad,' she snarled, walking away from the cash towards the door of the council flat in which they lived. Her mum quickly got up from the small dining room table, which only had enough room for two, and stood in front of the door, effectively blocking Carla's exit. She had a can in her hand, which she tipped upside down to reveal the lack of contents before throwing it to the ground beside her and crushing it beneath her foot, screwing up her nose is revulsion, her eyes never once leaving Carla's in the process.

Suddenly Carla felt warm breath on the back of her neck, and the strong smell of alcohol overpowered her senses so quickly she felt completely nauseated. It wasn't like she rarely smelt it – the house constantly reeked of the stuff – but the knowledge of how close her father was churned her stomach. He bent closer, so that his lips were right next to her ear before whispering.

'You see, Carla.' He shuffled his body closer to hers, so that she could feel him behind her. 'We've run out of alcohol.' Carla drew in a shaky breath before throwing up her well practised facade.

'Well go to the shop then.' She waited with bated breath as silence filled the flat, to the extent where she thought the room was going to explode. Suddenly everything began to spin and she felt lighter than usual, so she drew another large breath to stop herself from fainting. She had just regained single vision when her father's raised voice made her flinch away.

'_Pick it up_!' He was scaring her, but she refused the let him see that. She was only eleven, but she was braver than any sixteen year old. She gritted her teeth, ready to stand her ground once more.

'Over my dead bo...' Before she could even finish her sentence her dad grabbed her by the arm, holding it just too high for it to be comfortable. Her legs tangled beneath her as she tried to stand upright, but it was no use and he pushed her into the lumpy sofa before standing back and leaning against the wall opposite. Carla didn't dare to move, but she could tell her arm was going to bruise; great, another one to hide from Michelle. Her thoughts quickly turned to Rob, who would be waiting outside school for her. He'd begged and begged his parents to sign the slip to let him stay for the afterschool club, but their mum had just thrown it in the bin without a second glance. Carla had sneaked into the kitchen to fetch it while her mum was asleep and faked the signature so that Rob could go, knowing that her mum probably wouldn't even notice what time Carla picked him up. She'd been right of course. Images of Rob standing at the gates, his eyes pricked with tears as the playground emptied and no Carla in sight, flashed before her eyes and she couldn't help what came out next. 'I...I need to pick up Rob, he's waiting for me.'

Her father's face turned thunderous, and she automatically cowered a little into the sofa, despite willing herself not to show that he was getting to her.

'Well, quicker you go to the shop, the quicker you'll be able to pick him up.' A broad, smug smile fell onto his features at his own comment, because he knew how much leverage he had now that her younger brother had been bought into the occasion. '_Won't you_.' His smile quickly vanished, and he somehow looked more threatening than she had ever seen him. He was now closer to the sofa, his eyes boring deep into her skin, and she couldn't bear to look up at him.

'Dad, they're never going to serve me...' she reasoned, knowing this would be the case. She was pretty sure that that wasn't going to deter him from demanding the impossible from her, but she hoped that somewhere inside him he would look at his baby girl and realise what he was doing. Instead he strode over to the sofa agonisingly slowly, leaning over and placing his arms either side of her body, effectively trapping her. She could smell the alcohol clearly again and his breath on her face made her wince slightly.

'Then you find a way then.' He tilted his head sharply, his eyes not once leaving hers. '_Don't you_.' She sat staring into his uncaring eyes and she couldn't stand it anymore. Her gaze flickered to the left, but a warning blow from her dad to the sofa beside her made her recreate eye contact again. For the first time in the evening a small, innocent tear began to make its way down her cheek. She wasn't used to having to keep her facade up for so long – it was usually a short argument which she would encounter, nothing as lengthy as this – and she was struggling to stay strong.

'Why can't you just get them?' she begged him. 'I need to pick up Rob, he'll get upset otherwise.'

He seized the sides of her chin with his right hand, his ragged nails digging sharply into her tender skin, forcing her to look at him with wide, fearful eyes.

'I'm sure _one more_ half an hour without you won't traumatise him.' He let go and pushed her face back, causing her head to collide painfully with the back of the sofa. He had left angry red marks where his nails had been, and she rubbed the stinging skin by her mouth while he had his back turned to her, not wanting to show any more signs of weakness before him. 'He's better off without you any way,' he quipped, knowing that remark would hurt more than any action.

'Oh yeah,' she muttered sarcastically, thinking he was unable to hear her. 'Because you're such great paren...'

Before she had time to finish her sentence her had swung back around to face her, a swift and powerful backhander colliding painfully with her cheek. The force behind the blow sent her crashing into the sofa, and she now laid there on her forearms, trying to get her head around what had just happened. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her back into an upright position, his face now just centimetres from hers.

'Pick up the money,' he whispered threateningly, 'Go to the shop, and get us them cans. The quicker you're back, the quicker you can go and fetch the weasel.' Her bottom lip shook at the disgusting way with which he referred to his own son, but she managed to bite her tongue, for she knew any clever remark from her would only make this terrible situation even worse. He let go and walked away to the kitchen, allowing Carla to regulate her breathing without being watched. '_DO IT_,' he screamed, sensing no movement from the eleven year old who was still sitting idly on the sofa.

She scrambled up and over to the notes which still lay on to floor, scooping them up in one hand. She turned towards the door, and her heart dropped when she saw her own mother standing at the door, holding it open ready for her to leave. She rushed out before any more tears could fall, but she struggled to hold it together once the cold air hit her face and the sound of the door slamming behind her echoed along the outside corridor.

* * *

Carla remembered the look in Rob's eye that day when she had picked him up late, having run straight from the house to the school. She'd heard the teacher scolding her in the background but she hadn't been listening, she had just held her little six year old brother in the biggest hug possible. Her body had ached where her muscles had been tensed and on alert the whole time, her upper arm was throbbing and her face had stung terribly, but she hadn't cared once she had her brother by her side. She'd hung around outside the off-licence for hours, trying to convince passers-by to buy her her parent's alcohol, but unsurprisingly nobody had taken her up on her offer. When she had returned home empty handed that evening scared hadn't even covered it.

Carla shifted awkwardly from one foot to another as the next unwelcome memory came flooding back to her, and she played nervously with the ring on her finger as she tried to flush them from her mind. Rob picked up on it instantly, and he knew that it was a reaction to the way Peter was behaving with his child. The look in Carla's eyes told him that the past was haunting her thoughts once more, and anger suddenly overwhelmed him at Peter's inconciderance for his sister's feelings. It was obvious that Carla felt uncomfortable by it all, so why didn't he stop?

'What the hell do you think you're doing?' Rob snapped, directing his anger at Peter.


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N**__ I'm sorry it's been so long, life got in the way again. Don't know if anyone's still interested, but thank you if you are. Not sure on the quality of this chapter as it took a while to get back into the swing of it, but I hope it's alright :) As always, thanks for your reviews – I really do appreciate them, and it really motivates me to continue when I've got so little time on my hands. I'm finding it especially hard at the moment, what with having no Carla around, but I got a lovely review off__** annie**__ and it really motivated me to finish off this chapter for you all. So, here it is! Oh, and I'd like to make it clear that this is the view of the characters; I don't condone violence in any way, shape or form._

'Don't you dare tell me how to look after my kid!'

Peter's attention had turned fully from his disobedient son to the rude human being who had no right to intervene. He took a confrontational step towards Rob, ready to unleash all the anger he had been bottling up inside since the man first arrived.

'Open your eyes, mate!' Rob shouted back, flinging his arms in the general direction of Carla. Peter's brow furrowed in a confused manner as he took in the pained expression which was deep-rooted into the features on his lovers face. However, he didn't have time to let his mind dwell on such matter, for before he knew it Rob was in his face once more. 'Does that not even bother you?' he asked, squaring up to the older man. If he didn't care about Carla's feelings, then he didn't deserve to receive her love.

Carla had seen her brother behave like this before when they were younger, and she wasn't too keen on what she believed was going to happen next. She tugged helplessly at Rob's sleeve as she tried to pull him away from the situation; the last thing she wanted was for Rob to lash out, as it would only give Peter chance to retaliate and do what he had wanted to do from the start. Besides that, she didn't want them fighting in front of Simon – they were having enough problems with him fighting at school, and he didn't need him to learn any new moves from his father.

'Rob, don't interfere...' she begged softly, hoping to reach into his soul and snap him out of this antagonistic state.

'No!' He snatched his sleeve back, stunning Carla with his aggressiveness as he swung around to face her. 'How does he expect you to open up to him when he does that, eh?' It took her a moment to realise what he was trying to get at, but when it hit her realisation and distress spread across her features.

'Peter's not that sort of guy, you've got it all wrong...' She tried to reason, but Rob interrupted her, barely listening to whatever excuse she was making for him.

'He's just dragged his kid through the flat!' Rob threw his head back, unable to believe that his sister was condoning this. He had seen the discomfort on her face and he knew the thoughts that were flying through her mind, so he couldn't comprehend why she was standing there defending him like this.

'Don't get involved in what you don't understand, Rob!' she chastised.

'This is crazy. Crazy!' His voice was getting even louder and more distressed, and Carla was intrigued by his over the top reaction to what was happening. She'd never thought he'd been too affected by what had happened when they were younger; he'd been too young to fully understand what was going on, and it was always her that had bore the full brunt of their parents' behaviour. She had obviously underestimated the amount he understood, or maybe things had happened after she left that she didn't know about. She couldn't stand the thought of Rob being the replacement punch bag after she had escaped that hell hole they had called a home.

'Will you calm down!' she insisted, knowing this display of extreme emotion wasn't going to be beneficial to Simon in any way, shape or form.

'Carla, get him out of here will you!' Peter's voice boomed from the other side of the room, and it was almost a shock to the both of them that there was someone else still in the room with them. They had both got so lost in their altercation, that they'd forgotten the cause of the argument was standing only feet front them.

'What is it that he's supposed to have done, hm?' Rob asked, expectantly.

'How is it anything to do with you?' Peter exclaimed back. He didn't know how any of this had come about, and he certainly wasn't going to answer to the crazed man he'd barely even met.

'Rob, don't do this in front of Simon.' Carla's voice was small in the midst of everything going on around her.

'I know how much you care for that boy! Why aren't you doing anything about this?' The word "care" seemed to echo around the room, where everyone was shocked at what he had just said. Everyone else hadn't noticed the way she had started to feel about Simon, or else turned a blind eye to it, yet he had managed to see it within the first twenty-four hours of seeing her again. It was either some weird sibling thing, he knew her better than she thought, or it had just needed an outsider to see the cold hard facts. Everyone was still hung up on what Rob had said, when Simon's shrills filled the flat.

'No, she hates me!' Rob sighed as he spun round to face the boy, still sitting on the sofa in the middle of the room. Carla was pleased that he seemed to be less angry than he had been, but she worried that he had become a volcano, simmering as it waited to explode.

'You don't honestly believe that, do you?' he asked the kid, looking straight into his eyes as he pleaded with him to see . However, Simon was young, and he had very different ideas.

'Yeah, she's a witch!' he screamed. It was something both Carla and Peter were used to now, and all it extracted was a sigh from the former; it still hurt, no matter how many times it was said. It was a new one on Rob though, and the explosion Carla had been waiting for suddenly made it's appearance.

'I beg your pardon!' he shouted, eyes wide.

The moment Rob turned on Simon was when Carla knew she needed to get him out, no matter what. He was volatile right now – angry at the situation and upset at the memories – and she couldn't have that directed at the young boy.

'Rob! Out! Now!' She pushed and shoved with more force than she knew she had in her, finally managing to get him out the flat. She slammed the door behind her, throwing all her weight on it so that she was blocking his way in case he tried to re-enter. She glared at him; a mixture of fear, angst, confusion and anger all reaching her eyes at once. He admitted defeat and threw himself at the wall behind him, letting his head roll back as he started to control his breathing. He rolled his head to the side, so that he was just about able to see Carla. He couldn't get his head around why she looked so relieved.

'I know you don't want that to happen. Why the hell aren't you doing something about it?' he whispered, keeping his voice down in order to keep a lid on his anger. He had only just got his sister back, and he didn't want to blow this chance she had given him. Unless he'd just done that...but he didn't – no, couldn't – think like that. She took a deep breath, and decided to be truthful. It was the only way they were going to sort this one out.

'Because Simon is Peter's son, not mine.' The kid hated her, as he had just proved, and the last thing any of them wanted was for Carla to start playing mother towards him; it would create more problems than it would solve.

'We both know that being somebody's child doesn't protect you.'

'Don't you dare compare Peter to Dad! Don't you even...' She trailed off, not able to bring herself to even think about what he had just said. There were no words which seemed appropriate right now. 'Peter would never hurt that boy...ever!' Her voiced cracked at the end, the mere thought of what her brother was insinuating just too much to handle.

'You sure about that, are you?'

'Yes! Yes, I am!' She launched herself off the door towards her brother, now irate that he couldn't just accept the simple facts in front of him. 'That's called _discipline_ Rob, he's not doing it maliciously! You think I'd be with him if it wasn't? You think I'd let them be in a room alone if I thought Peter was capable of anything like that? You think I'd stand by and let what happened to us happen to anyone else, hm? What do you take me for Rob?' She was getting more and more worked up as she went along, and Rob knew he had to interject before she got herself in a state.

'I'm sorry...I'm sorry. It was just seeing you so uncomfortable...I could tell you were thinking of _him_.' He didn't need to specify who he was talking about, because they both knew there was only one person who could bring about such reactions to what had just happened – their father.

'I don't want to talk about that.' Her answer was so quick he knew it was the truth. She was obviously practised at shutting out such thoughts, and he found it heartbreaking. The extent she had gone to to block everything seemed crazy to him, and he realised that it had all had a much bigger effect on his older sister than he had thought. He'd always known that this tough facade was exactly that – a facade. However, he'd never realised just how strong that facade had been.

'You're going to have to at some point you know,' he reasoned, hoping she would soon find the courage to talk about it. He could practically see it eating her up from the inside, and he wondered how long she had been trying to suppress every thought from her childhood. He couldn't imagine how tiring it must be to block something so thoroughly for so long, and as if she could hear his mind she relaxed against the door, exhaustion prominent on her face.

'I know...' she sighed, exhaling heavily and fiddling with the hem of her top with her hand closest to him. 'I know.'


End file.
